Anywhere
by Jack Wong
Summary: A story that's been up here before - Kori returns into Dick's life, but things are complicated when Bruce goes missing...


It's cold.

Babs called me, two hours ago. I had been planning to sting Marky Gong's drug ring tonight; there's a buy going on, inside the warehouse I'm looking at right now. I had been waiting a month, a full month, to be in there tonight.

But I'm outside.

"Nightwing, it's Oracle," she had said; my radio had been on in case new info came up about Gong; I wasn't expecting the information I got.

"Eagle to nest. The jack is in the box," I said, joking.

"What?"

"These transmissions are completely encrypted, Barbara."

She paused. "What if someone's reading your lips."

"My hand's over my mouth," I lied. "What's up?"

"Nightwing…or, Dick." She paused. It sounded like something I wasn't going to like.

I changed my tone. "What is it?"

"Bruce knows about the buy."

And all too, suddenly, I'm angry. "You told him?"

"He's been on the same case as you," she said. "He didn't want me to tell you."

I bristled. "You could have anyway."

"Dick, you know Bruce." This was true. "He wants to talk to you. Coordinate."

"This is bullshit, Barbara. I set this up-"

"I didn't tell him, Dick. He didn't know." She paused. "He told me what he was doing tonight, and I realized you were going to the same spot. I didn't want you two to mess up each other's plans."

Great. "I'll talk to him," I said, not looking forward to what I knew I was going to hear.

Dick, you're going to be outside, waiting in the snow while I'm in a heated building with the action. I want you to sit on your ass for two hours while I get the evidence. If you hear a scuffle and anyone leaves the warehouse, then I want you to get involved and save my ass. I need you to play backup. Get it?

Got it, Bruce.

I've always gotten it; the raw end of the op.

No one has come out. People have gone in, but-

Suddenly, there's gunfire – this is the scuffle. I put myself on edge.

I wait.

I wait until I get a call over the radio. "Nightwing. The building is secure."

"Okay Batman," I say. "Need any help in there?"

"No," Bruce says. "Thanks for your help." And he ends the transmission.

x

"Next time, just fucking tell me, okay Barbara?" I'm in her tower, in front of her TV screen, eating Japanese takeout. "I'd been planning this for a long time."

"I know, Dick. It's just-"

"What, 'it's Bruce' so you can't?"

She stares me down. "He's paying for all of this." She lets it sit there.

I almost ask about our friendship, about whatever 'we' are, but it's clear that the line has been drawn. Dick is a lower priority. Dick is not Bruce.

I stand up, grabbing my coat and leaving the takeout behind.

"Dick," she says after me. I don't respond.

I find some two-bit thugs on a street corner, selling drugs – probably Gong's stuff. I let myself think this as I punch the first one. I let myself believe that they're just as bad as Marky, that they're not just kids trying to make a buck, as I push my foot into one of their thighs; his leg snaps. My face is anger embodied - no, I'm not Bruce. And even if it's only these two bloody, battered children that know that…

At least someone does.

I wander off into the night to find a mugger, a rapist, a shoplifter; anything I can, to do it again.

x

My apartment is small; the second one, the one next door that Bruce pays for in a dummy name, where I keep all things Nightwing, is big. Bruce needs Nightwing to have everything he needs, to have space to store everything necessary to run around the city doing what we do.

Dick though; Dick can sleep in a glorified bedroom. There's a kitchen in the corner, and a bath the size of a sauna. It feels like I live in a hotel.

It's all free, though. Sugar daddy covers all expenses, because I do things he wants me to; nothing in specific, but he knows that I can make a difference. I fight crime.

I should have taken the food. I talk hunger down, convincingly, and turn off the light.

Tonight I beat seventeen street-level criminals to a pulp, doing little but ruining their lives. And I sat on a warehouse, for two hours, so sugar daddy could feel comfortable while he did his thing. I don't feel fulfilled.

Which is why I try not to think about it. We have trained ourselves to fall asleep as soon as we hit the bed; you never know when your dream time will be interrupted, and it's best to maximize the time you can spend under sleep's spell. It makes sense.

So instead of ruminating on tonight, feeling angry at Bruce but mostly myself, I calm the demons and drift off, hoping that where my unconscious mind takes me will be more rewarding. Goodnight everyone…

x

I wake up to the phone ringing, and turn over half awake. When I get my wits about me, I look at it and stare.

Nightwing gets calls. One of my lines sounds like bells, that's the normal one; normal Nightwing business. Then there's one that sounds like a foghorn, or a synthesized foghorn. That's for emergencies, for when I'm needed dearly. That one doesn't come so often.

This ring, though, sounds like any phone. I hardly recognize it. This is the civilian line. And Dick doesn't get calls.

I stand up, intrigued. I look at the caller ID – it's not a number I know. It's from an area code in West Gotham, a rough part of town. I think, then remember that I literally have nothing planned today. Nothing planned.

Nothing.

"Hello?"

There's a pause, and I hear someone inhale. But it's not just someone. I know that breath.

"Dick?" she asks.

"Kori," I say, and sit down on the bed.

"Hi," she says; – my once fiancée and I haven't spoken in years, but she sounds just about the same.

"What's going on?" I ask, getting over the shock of hearing her voice.

"I'm in Gotham, I was wondering if you'd like to get together."

"Yeah; yeah, sure," I said. "Where are you?"

"I'm still at the airport. I could get a cab downtown if you'd like to meet for breakfast."

"I would," I say, and walk briskly towards the master bedroom. "Do you have a lot of bags?"

"I travel light," she says, and I remember.

Her purse is large, but it's just a purse; I see it hanging over the back of a chair at Rocque, a premier bistro on the south side. And there she is, spicy Koriand'r, spooking everyone else in the restaurant – orange skin, long, red hair and green eyes with no pupils, as foreign as they get. She looks up at me, Dick Grayson, tan skin and pupils, and smiles.

She stands up. "Dick," she says, and comes in for a hug; I comply. "You look great," she says, and has a grin on her lips. It's infectious; it always was.

"You do too," I say. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Don't worry about it," she says. "The manor's pretty far away."

"I don't live in the manor anymore," I say.

"Oh," she says, and smiles again. She looks like she wants to kiss me, but she knows enough about human customs not to. Anyway, it's obvious that she is happy to see me.

But I catch something else in her mannerisms; something is up. She clearly doesn't want to talk about it right away, and we speak about lighter things as we sit down. "So what brings you to Gotham?" I ask.

"I'm here to see a friend," she says. "I hear you had a new job for a while."

I stare at her. I suppose if she saw any photos-

She smiles. "Your secret's safe with me, Richard."

"I know it is," I say. "But we shouldn't discuss it here."

Kori nods. "So what have you been up to?"

I smile, and she laughs.

"Okay, well what can we talk about here?"

"What about you," I ask, "what have you been doing, Starfire?"

"I spent some time back home," on her planet. "Not that much, really," she says, and the conversation stalls.

"We no good talking," I said, referencing a mis-use of English from deep in our past.

She smiles again. "You remember that?" She shakes her head. "God, those first few years were rough on my brain."

"Well your English sounds great now," I say.

Her eyes swing around the restaurant. "You know, I actually ate on the plane." She looks up and smiled, like she had wronged me.

"I'm not hungry either," I lie. I'm starving. "I was gonna get a side."

Kori stands and grabs her purse. "Walk in the park?"

"Sounds good to me," I say.

We are a block away from Rocque when she turns to me. "I'd like to see the manor," she says. "I always enjoyed the grounds."

"Sure," I say, and turn to her. "When are you meeting your friend?"

"We talked," she says. "There's time."

The drive is strange. Here are two people sitting in separated little spaces, driver's side and passenger's side, who had once been all over each other, for days and days and months and months. I knew her body like it was mine; it was a good time in my life.

I loved her.

It might have been the best time.

I find myself staring at her, and she points to the road – "Dick!"

I turn just fast enough to avoid swerving into the other lane, where cars are moving much faster and would make sardines out of us both. Damn. She giggles, and I don't know what to say.

"So," she says, once we arrive, "when did you move out?"

"When Bruce got back," I say.

Kori stops as I tell the garage door to close behind us. "So how was it being Batman?" she asks. I shrug.

"It was harder than being Nightwing," I say.

"How so?"

"More pressure," I say, and walk towards the exit that will lead us to Alfred's gardens. "People looking at you as the symbol of the city. I don't know how Bruce does it, it felt like ten years and it was…" I think. "I don't remember. But it felt like decades."

"Huh," she says. "Is anyone here?"

"Bruce is at a party, I'm sure Alfred's with him."

"Okay," she says, and we walk out into the sea of green stems and splashes of colored petals. "This is still beautiful," she says.

"So are you," I say, and she looks at me and smiles.

x

She laughs. "Do you remember the time when we went to the movies downtown and you fell asleep?" She pulls her foot up on the couch, and drinks her glass of wine; we had moved inside and into a pricey bottle once the sun had started to set.

"And I woke up thinking the siren was real?" I smile. "Yeah, I remember."

"You jumped straight out of your seat, like a foot in the air."

We've been walking down memory lane, but it was coming to a dead end; we had gone up through the teenage years into our early 20s, and the ceremony would come soon; we were going to tactfully avoid it, I was sure.

"Dick," she says, and pauses. Maybe we were going to talk about it. "I never forgave myself for calling it off."

I breathe, years and years of pain entering and leaving my lungs. "It's fine," I say.

She didn't say anything, even though she wanted to. I hear all the practiced apologies running through her head, and how none of them would do.

"Look," I say, "what happened happened. I wouldn't be where I am today if we had…" I trail off.

"Are you happy today?" Kory asks. I look to her.

"I'm proud to be doing what I'm doing," I say. "I don't know if you can call that happy." She stares at the couch. "What about you?" I ask.

"I'm not," she says, setting the conversation up for a million awkward possibilities. Instead of pursuing one, she looks up with any sadness wiped from her face. "Are you going out tonight?"

I look at the clock. "Yeah," I say. "Bruce will be home pretty soon. We'll probably do rounds together."

"Anything particular you're going to do?" she asks.

"No," I say. "Just rounds." I pause. "Wanna come?"

She laughs. "Nah. I haven't done that in a while."

"What?"

"The whole crime-fighting thing," Kory says.

I smile. "With all those superpowers, I'm sure it'd be easy to get back into."

"Thanks but no thanks," she says with her grin.

I don't want to ask, and she doesn't have to say it – we both know the friend is me. She doesn't know anyone else in Gotham worth visiting.

"Can I stay here?" she asks.

I nod. "Are you tired?"

She yawns. "Yeah," she says, and stands up.

"Any room with a bed," I say. "If you need anything, call Alfred."

She walks up to me, and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Good night," she says as she turns to walk away.

"Sleep well," I say. "Wake me up in the morning."

"Sure thing, Mr. Grayson," she says, and I watch her move as she walks down the hall. She is a lot of woman. And she used to be mine.

I look towards the window as I see lights shining in – Bruce. He and Alfred pull into the garage, and I hide the wine as I wait for them to come inside.

"Hey Dick," he says, his tuxedo already half taken off. "Coming along tonight?"

It's an uneventful six hours. We jump and swing around the city, like old times, but can't find much to do. Maybe I scared people off with my rampage last night. We stop a few street crimes and cut off a convenience store robbery; nothing out of the ordinary, and we come back to the cave early. He pats me on the back once we're out of the cold and in the recently cleaned mansion, and I make my way to my favorite bathroom.

In the shower I clean off the grit and sweat, scrub the night off me. Rejuvenated and ready to sleep, I walk down the series of halls to the room Bruce keeps for me to use on nights like this. But as I open the door I see something I wasn't expecting – I had said any room with a bed, but I hadn't been expecting her to pick mine.

She always knew when I was coming, when I was around. Even if she was asleep; not that her race sleeps like humans anyway. She turns over, and I can tell she's naked under the sheets. "Hey," she says, smiling and half in dreamland.

"Hi," I say, and close the door behind me.

x

I wake up in an empty bed on only four hours of sleep, Kori nowhere to be seen. I rub my eyes and get up.

She is in the kitchen, and has burnt some eggs. She looks up as I come in. "Wow," she says, "I forgot how to cook these."

"It's okay," I say.

She shakes her head. "You don't have to eat them."

"That's not what I meant," I say. "But I would."

Kori laughs. "I don't want you to, anyway," she says, and dumps them in the trash. She stares at the trash can, and I can only hope she's thinking about something else.

"What's really going on, Kori?" It was time for it to come out. "Why come all the way to Gotham-"

"All the way to Earth, Dick." She smiles. "I came all the way to Earth to see you."

I pause, stunned. "…I'm honored," I say.

Starfire looks me in the eyes, suddenly very serious. "I'm here because…" She pauses, about to say something heavy. "All this time, Dick…all this time, and I've never found the connection we had. Anywhere, with anyone."

The feelings come, surging up in me – I control them as best I can.

She is on the edge of tears. "Did you miss me?"

I move over and hug her, hard in the chest. I kiss her on her cheek. "Yes," I say. That is enough.

She pushes herself into me and we hold each other. "I don't want to be alone anymore," she says. "I'd rather we be together."

I squeeze tighter, and before I can think I say it. "Me too."

Alfred enters the kitchen, looks up and sees us. We release. "Ms. Koriand'r," he says.

"Hi Alfred," she says. "How are you."

"Tired, I'm afraid," he says. "Will you two be eating breakfast here?"

"No," I say. I turn to Kori. "Let's go."

x

"What do you want to do?" Kori asks as we drive through the gate. We leave the manor behind us and curve down the private road, back towards town.

"I don't know," I say. "I just didn't want to stay."

She nods. "Where do you live these days?"

x

We find ourselves in my little room; she's sitting on the bed and I'm giving eggs a second try. "I'm glad you're here," I say, and let it sit there. "But you didn't come all this way to hook up."

"I thought…" She pauses. "It was just that maybe, I thought…"

She can't bring herself to say it.

"Kori, I-"

"I want you come with me, Dick." She says. "I want for us to leave, together. Go somewhere and start a life." Kori stares at me with her little green oceans. They ask me, implore me, to answer in the right way. "The life we should have had."

I stare back, feeling things shift around inside me, until the eggs fry out. I look back to the pan; "Damn it." I laugh, and I expect her to as well, but instead she looks at the ground, depressed. I turn the burner off, and lean on the fridge. "Kori," I say…

Her eyes swing back up. "What, Dick?"

I can't move.

I want to walk over, to comfort her. I don't like to see her sad. I hate it. "Where," I ask.

"Anywhere," she says.

I pause, but not for too long. I move from the kitchen to the bed, and sit down next to her. Suddenly, at point blank range, I can see in her face that this was a very hard thing for her to do, harder than I thought. I don't know where she's been, or what she's done, but if I know Kori she's been with a lot of guys since we parted. She knows that I know this. She looks away, about to retreat, about to give up on her dream. About to admit that all is lost.

I breathe in. This is hard for me too, but I say it.

"When do we leave?" I ask.

She turns back; she knows I'm not lying, that I'm genuine. "Oh Dick," she says, and starts to cry as she hugs me. "Oh Dick."

I run my hand over her back, trying to ease the feelings that must be racing through her.

"I love you, Kori."

"I love you too," she says, and we embrace, hard, sitting there on the edge of the mattress. It's been a long time, a long, long time, that I have been dreaming that this would happen. That she would come back in my life. I hold her as close as I can. I'm not going to let her go.

The phone rings; it's not the civilian line. It's not the Nightwing line, either – the foghorn sounds out into the apartment. There's something very important going down.

But not as important as this.

I kiss her on the forehead, and she reaches up to kiss me on the lips; our bodies dance together and around each other, and clothes come off quickly and then it's just us. Two people, two people that belong together, together again.

She looks to the phone, which hasn't stopped ringing, and laughs. "Are you going to get that?" she asks.

I stand up, walk over to the phone, and pull the plug. I turn back to her, and her eyes, and lose myself all over again. There's nothing left to say.

We're already gone.

x

The walk from where I parked in front of the mansion to the door has never, ever felt so long. My legs are heavy, and I trudge up the steps - I have to say it right, and am rehearsing it my head.

Bruce, I'm leaving. You can handle the city on your own.

No, that's no good. Do some small talk first.

Small talk? I'm about to tell my mentor I'm abandoning him. Small talk is not in order. I sigh, and mentally clear my throat. Bruce-

The door opens when I am almost halfway there; so much for practice. Alfred walks out, and he looks worried.

"Dick," he says, and I can tell he and the rest of the crew were disturbed by my not answering yesterday.

"Where's Bruce, Alfred?" He pauses, and I can tell I'm missing something. But I don't care. I'm leaving. "I need to talk to him," I say.

"Dick, Bruce is missing. If you had picked up yesterday, you would know that." He stares at me. "You unplugged your transmitter."

I don't respond to the last part. "What do you mean he's missing?"

"He has disappeared," Alfred says.

I look at him sideways. "What about the tracker?"

Alfred's face turns to a look of heightened concern. "We found it in West Gotham," he says. "They took it out of his thigh."

"…what?"

"Surgically removed it, Dick."

I shake my head. "It wouldn't show up in a scan, it's plastic."

Alfred nods. "I know that. And I know what you're thinking, he didn't do it himself."

"How do you know that?"

"Dick we found the car, his car."

I nod. "Where is it?"

"It was blown to scrap."

x

I walk down into the Batcave and see other members of the Robin club – Tim and Damien. "What have we got?" I ask.

"Where have you been, Dick," Tim asks, angry.

"Nowhere," I say. "What have we got."

"Nothing," Damien says.

I pause. "Witnesses?"

Tim shakes his head.

"Do we know what he was doing?"

"No," Alfred says, having followed me down. "I was asleep and didn't know he had left." I stare.

"This was yesterday morning?" I ask.

Alfred nods. "He left shortly after you departed."

"Okay," I say. "What did you find last night?"

"Jack shit," Damien says. "Where were you?" he asks accusatorily.

"That's not important," I say.

"Not important?" Damien laughs. "My dad was kidnapped and you were off banging your-"

"Shut up," I say, pointing at his head.

He looks up at me, the stupid little rebel. "What did you say?"

"Guys," Tim says, "this isn't the time."

Damien simmers, but keeps from boiling over.

"Did anyone talk to Gordon?" I ask, and they stare. I remember, then, that I'm the only one here with a relationship with the man. I sigh. "So that's why you need me."

Alfred puts his hand on my shoulder. "Dick, we need you because you have the highest chance of finding him."

"You're the best out of all of us," Tim says, and Tim rarely talks that way.

I stare at him, and slowly accept that he isn't lying. "What's the plan?" I ask, knowing that I may have to be the quarterback.

"There is no plan," Damien says. "You need to make one."

I look to the brat. Was that a sign of respect? "…okay," I say. "Brief me."

x

I call my apartment repeatedly, and eventually she picks up. "Dick isn't here right now," she says.

"It's me, Kori," I say.

"Oh," she says. "How did it go?"

I breathe in. "Bruce is missing, Kori."

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"I can't talk about it over the phone." I pause. "You didn't buy the tickets yet, did you?"

"Just the flights to Winnipeg," where the new spaceport is located. We had planned on going to her home planet first, maybe finding a place there. I've never been off of Earth. It's going to be an adventure.

"You might have to push them up," I said.

She paused. "They're fixed," she said. "No refunds, no schedule changes."

I forgot that she was buying them, and not sugar daddy – not everyone can afford first class all the time. "Damn, Kori," I say. "This might stretch over Sunday."

The other end was quiet.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I'll buy other tickets."

"What are you doing now?" she asks.

"I'm in the cave." She sighs. "Listen, we're still going," I say. "This is an emergency, but we'll find him," I say.

"I know, Dick, I know."

I look over to the rest of the squad, pouring over data like I told them to. "I have to go."

"Okay," she says. "Good luck."

"Bye."

And she hangs up.

I snap the phone closed, and walk back to the group.

x

It's been two days and we haven't gotten a lead. Two days.

Because of this, I do something I had been hoping not to.

She has taken up residence in my bed, and hasn't left that much save running, or walking to the convenience market across the street. She looks up as I enter. "Any news?"

I shake my head. She knows what's coming, and isn't looking forward to it any more than I am. "Kori," I say, "we could use your powers to find Bruce."

"I'm not going out, Dick."

I pause. "This is Bruce Wayne, Kori. Batman." She's not giving. "He could die."

"I can't," she says.

"Why not?" I don't want to sound angry, but a little bit seeps into my question. "I'm sorry," I say, "I respect your decision. I'm just curious."

"I'm pregnant, Dick."

I stare at her. She came here with a bun in the oven? "Whose is it?" I ask. Now I am angry. "Let me get this straight. You came here with a kid to get me to come raise it with you?"

She looks shocked.

"Is that it?"

"No, Dick," she says, "that's not it."

I wait for an explanation, but it doesn't come. "I should go," she says, and walks to the door.

"Kori wait," I say, and try to get in front of her; she flicks me with her finger and I fly across the room, hitting the wall hard and landing on the bed. Fuck…

"Goodbye Dick," she says, and closes the door behind her.

I think I slipped a disc.

The phone rings, the foghorn again. It's always the foghorn these days. I look out my window and see her walking away, across the street, before I pick it up.

"Yeah."

"Dick, it's Tim. We did what you said and blah blah blah. I can't hear him, and I wish I had a time machine; a time machine, or was just very far away.

x

Two days later – Sunday. No leads, no nothing. Bruce might well be dead.

"Maybe it was someone in the business world," Tim says. "You know, some rival corporation had him kidnapped."

"We looked at that, Tim," Damien says. "Remember?"

"No, I don't." Tim glares at the little imp. He's been getting on everyone's nerves. Tim looks back to the table. "Well what are we supposed to do here? Just give up?"

The three of us can't say it, and we know that we owe it to Bruce to keep looking. Tim opens his mouth again, and I get a call.

It's from West Gotham again – where the airport is.

"Excuse me," I say, and walk off into the cave.

I open the phone. "Kori." I want to say I'm sorry, but she talks over me-

"Dick," she says, "it's your baby."

I sit down on the nearest thing that will support my body. "…what?"

"From the other night." She pauses. "I'm not like a human; I've never had a kid, but I can feel it already." She sighs. "There are some other things you might have forgotten."

And then I do remember. We never had to use condoms, because she can only get pregnant…if she wants to…

Fuck…

I hit myself on the head. "I'm so sorry Kori-"

"I forgive you, Dick."

"I'm glad you called, because," and I pause. It's no longer relevant, but I want to say it anyway. "I wanted to say that I wouldn't have cared."

"What?"

"I would still have come with you. Even if it wasn't mine."

She breathed in, deep, then sighed. "I have to go, Dick."

"Wait, Kori!" I yell into my phone.

"What?"

"Don't go," I say, "please. Stay in Gotham; just, wait, a while. Wait for me."

"I want you to name it, Dick," she says. She is getting on her plane to Winnipeg, the one that is about to board, and she is leaving from the spaceport in two days; I can't stop that now, I know. "It's a girl," she says softly.

I pause, a very, very long pause. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. "Kori," I say…

"They called my zone, Dick," she says. There's not a drop of happiness in her voice. "I have to go."

Click.

x

Monday. No leads. Hope is a precious commodity around here at this point. Alfred brings it up.

"Perhaps if you wore your Batsuit again, master Richard-"

I nod. "It could scare up some information." I pause. "Is it clean?"

"It is as of this morning."

It was a somber conversation. I know that if I put it on, I might well never take it off. "Where is it?" I ask.

He walks me to the room with the special machines that wash the suits, and there it is – Dick's Batman outfit. I stare. And suddenly I realize, I don't want to put it on. Ever again. I'm not Batman. I'm not Nightwing. I'm certainly not Robin.

I'm Dick.

Just Dick.

That's all. And I should be with someone else who is just themselves. No longer Starfire. Just-

"Master Richard?" Alfred asks – I shake myself out of my stupor. "You want to put it on? Practice moving with it?"

My mouth opens, but I just don't know what to say.

But then there's a noise from above; someone is buzzing at the gate, and the bell rings out into the cave. "I'll get that," Alfred says. I happen to know we weren't expecting anyone. I'm intrigued, and I follow.

And there he is. "Master Bruce," Alfred says in shock. "Where have you been?"

"Riddler's goons kidnapped me, I had to play along until I had things under control." He paused. "I'm sorry I didn't call." He turns to me. "Dick," he says, but I'm already walking away. "Dick?"

Down the steps, and left towards the garage.

Now is the time for Bruce to apologize. He knows that we were looking for him; he could yell from the door, or follow me and catch me before I was completely gone.

But as I look up, to see if he's coming, I notice that the front door…

It's closed.

Bruce needs rest. Bruce needs to catch up on what's been going on. Bruce needs a shower. Bruce…

Bruce.

Always Bruce.

I pull out of the garage and drive down the road to the gate. I don't look back as it opens, and I swing the car onto the feeder road; I don't care if I ever see the manor again.

x

This show sucks. It all sucks. It's all meaningless. I turn the TV off and throw back the bottle of vodka, taking a nice long swig.

It's all meaningless. Here we were, chasing rumors and theories trying to find Bruce and he was leading us on all along. Fuck you, Bruce. Fuck you.

And speak of the devil, I hear something outside of my window; not a noise most people would notice. It takes someone like us.

"Use the FRONT DOOR!" I scream. "TAKE OFF THE FUCKING MASK AND USE THE FRONT DOOR!" I look out the window – nothing. Great, I think. Now I'm hearing little creeper noises. Which is one man's fault. Fuck you, Bruce. Fuck you.

I grab the remote and turn the TV back on; I have nothing better to do. I feel as stupid as the goons on the tube. The only girl I've ever really loved is leaving tomorrow morning, and instead of going with her, I stayed to do something that didn't need to be done. In the end, this stupid costume party, and it is stupid, it holds me here in Gotham. This is what I have learned.

Knock knock.

I stare. "Come in," I say. It's unlocked.

And it's Bruce.

He doesn't say anything, and looks at me with the bottle, the television, the trashed room, the dirty dishes, and maybe, just maybe, understands. After a long period during which I don't acknowledge him, he walks over and sits down next to me. He doesn't say anything, for a while, and we watch some shitty sitcom. Happy adoptive father and son.

The vodka's almost gone, but I offer the rest to him by pushing it in his direction; he puts his hand up – no. I chug the rest of the bottle, and go to the table to grab the second one.

"Dick," he says as I walk over. "I'm sorry that-"

And then he sees the bottle, up in the air, swinging down at his head…

I follow his dodge and it breaks over the back of his skull. He falls to the ground, then jumps back up, quickly, ready to fight; I jump at him like an animal – he doesn't stand a chance. Bruce is good but he's old, and I know all his tricks; I know where the punches should go, and just when. Me, I've been training a lot, and not with him – I have a whole bag of surprises, and I'm at the top of my game. First his rib cracks; he gets a hit in, but no damage, then I get in a left hook…an uppercut…

And he falls.

And doesn't get back up.

"Dick, you gave me a concussion," he wheezes. I sit back down and turn to the television.

"Why?" I ask.

"I don't know why, you hit me over the head with a bottle of alcohol."

He sits up, slowly, and I turn my eyes to him.

"Why did you do this to us?" He doesn't get it. "To me, to Jason, to Tim. To Stephanie."

"What are you talking about," he says.

"You don't just adopt young people and turn them into killing machines. That's not normal," I say.

"Nothing about us is normal," he says.

"Not anymore," I say. "I always wondered what would have happened if you hadn't found me after the accident."

He turns his bleeding nose in my direction. "I can tell you one thing," he says.

"What."

"You wouldn't have been normal. No kid is going to be normal after watching his parents die during a circus act."

I shake my head. "You're dodging the topic Bruce." And he stands, slowly, feeling the rib. "Why did you do it?" He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. "Huh?"

"It's not simple, Dick-"

"Why am I stuck here, fighting fucking crime on the street? Why can't I be happy?"

"That's not normal either," he says. I growl, and as I move in to punch him…

He flinches…

And puts his hand up…

And I see Bruce, who had always been so strong, so wise, for what he really is – a sorry, twisted old man who never knew what he was doing. Ever.

"You want to know why?" he says.

I stall there, forever, then slowly shake my head. "No," I say. "No, I don't." He stands there. He's failed me, and he knows it. I point to the door. "Now get out of my apartment."

Bruce limps out of the door, a trail of blood I'm going to have to clean up following in his wake, and shuts it behind him. I exhale, and sit down – I grab for a bottle, but…

There's something on the bed. It's a ticket…

x

The plastic stairs are unforgiving, and the stairwell is freezing; the elevator is out, so I walk fourteen stories of step after step, step after step until I reach the right floor. I open the door and check my mental notes – room 1409.

I walk down the hotel hallway, better heated and soft with carpet. Suddenly a door opens several rooms down, and someone in a towel runs out, dripping all over the hall floor – it doesn't matter. I wasn't trying to surprise her.

She stands there, stopped in her tracks like I am, about thirty feet away.

I can't do anything but stare.

Emotions unnamed wash over me in quick waves, building and building. "Beth," I say.

Kori stares back, for a long time, then nods. "That's a nice name."

I don't have to ask, and she doesn't have to say it – we both know she bought a ticket for me. We stay in this stalemate for so, so long; it might as well be forever.

"Look," I say, walking towards her, "I don't care where we go, but do you have a place?"

She smiles. "No, Dick," she says. "No I don't."


End file.
